Mark chuckled out loud, momentarily breaking the tension. “My favorite one was when they’d tell me that my faith wasn’t strong enough. Just have faith, they’d say. Faith is the key. Faith is the answer. Faith is your foundation. And then they’d never tell me how it was I was supposed to get it, keep it, or understand it.”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation,” Rita said suddenly. “My parents would never understand. Especially my mother.”
“You and your mom have a difficult relationship, don’t you?” Mark spoke the words hesitantly. He worried that if he prodded Rita to reveal too much, too soon, she’d bolt and run like a frightened deer.
“That’s the understatement of the century. Negotiating peace among warring nations would be a simpler project than dealing with our relationship,” Rita retorted.
“I would imagine that makes it quite difficult for you.” Mark’s words pulled Rita out of her defensive mode for once in her life.
“That’s really the first time anyone has ever mentioned that our relationship might be hard on me. Usually, there’s all this sympathy for my mother,” Rita stated with a sadness to her voice. “She has a prayer group … you know the type. It’s made up of the local church women and they all pray for the issues of the day. My mother never hesitates to tell me that they’ve been praying for me for roughly the last twenty-some years. It’s no wonder that people see things her way. She probably goes to the meetings and pours out her heart and cries her miseries of life with a difficult child. It drove me from home and now that I’m back, nothing has changed.”
“And exactly what is it that hasn’t changed?” Mark asked, throwing another log on the fire.
Rita grew quiet for a moment, and Mark thought for certain he’d pushed her too far. When she finally spoke, he realized he’d been holding his breath and exhaled rather loudly.
“My mother can’t deal with me as a daughter. I’m nothing more to her than a challenge. A soul to win to God so that her tally sheet is complete when she stands before her King. She’s never cared for me as a mother would a child, and I resent the only concern she bears for me is that which is on the behalf of another.”
“And this is also why you resist a relationship with God?” Mark asked without thinking.
“I picked up the Bible as a young girl,” Rita said, turning. Mark’s expression was gentle. “I was thinking about giving my life over to Him. I really was. But I opened the Bible to Isaiah and a verse that put me off in a way that even now causes me grief.”
“What was it?”
“It said something like, ‘As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you.’ I’d never known anything but pain and frustration from my mother. Certainly not comfort. And if God was as comforting as my mother, then that meant nothing to me. I slammed the Bible shut and sulked for weeks. I had never felt more betrayed.” Rita got to her feet and walked a few steps from the fire before turning around briefly. Her eyes narrowed slightly, blinking back tears. “I’m sorry. I should never have told you these things.”
Mark watched Rita walk to the river’s edge. She just stood there for several minutes, looking out as if seeking peace for her soul. He allowed her the time to compose herself before he joined her.
“I’m glad you talked to me,” he whispered at her back. “I think it helps friends to understand one another when they know each other’s pain.”
“Friends?” Rita questioned, whirling around to find herself only inches from Mark. “I thought you didn’t want to be my friend.”
Mark smiled through the shadowy light. Rita noted the change in his eyes. “I’d like to be much more,” Mark said before pulling Rita into his arms and kissing her.
Rita was shocked into silence and passive acceptance. She found herself enjoying the kiss, while she fought in her mind to resist the pleasure of Mark’s touch. Warnings went off in her brain. Don’t get too close! Don’t care too much! Don’t reciprocate!
When Mark released her, Rita shook her head and took a step backward. Mark reached out to steady her as she found her foot give way on the unstable riverbank.
“Let me go,” she whispered without malice. She sidestepped Mark and felt his grip give way when her feet were fixed on firm ground. Without looking behind her, Rita hurried breathlessly to her tent and the solitude it afforded her.
Chapter 6
Rita returned from her sled trip more withdrawn and quiet than before. She purposefully went out of her way to avoid Mark, and very little was offered in the way of explanation.
August and Beth watched helplessly. How were they to help this child who so obviously didn’t want their help? They sat alone in their kitchen one evening, long after Rita had retired for the night. Holding each other’s hands as they shared a prayer, August and Beth found comfort in the Lord and each other.
“I’m really afraid for her,” Beth said after August ended the prayer. “She’s so miserable and unhappy with her life. She wants to blame everyone else for her problems. Do you know that she told me she would never have bothered to come home except for the fact that her college roommate had decided to move to the lower forty-eight. Never mind the Iditarod. It was as if she couldn’t accept that she’d made the choice to come home all by herself.”
“I’d hoped things would be different,” August admitted, pouring himself another cup of coffee. When he offered to pour Beth a cup, she shook her head.
“Did Mark say anything about their trip?” Beth questioned curiously.
“He mentioned that he kissed her,” August said with a half-smile. “But she made it clear that he was to keep his distance and, well, you know Mark. He’s a good man and he put it behind him.”
“Does she still plan to race?” Beth asked.
“As far as I know,” August answered with a shrug of his shoulders. “But with Rita, who can ever be sure. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if she came downstairs tomorrow with her bags in hand.” Beth nodded and said nothing. What else could be said?
Rita didn’t show up the following morning with bags in hand, nor was her disposition as sour as it had been upon her return. She had just answered her mother’s inquiry about what she’d like for breakfast when a knock sounded at the front door.
“I wonder who that is?” August put down his newspaper.
“I’ll get it, Dad,” Rita offered and took off for the front room.
“Aunt Julie!” August heard his daughter squeal in excitement.
“Julie?” August said and exchanged a look of surprise with Beth. “Julie said nothing about visiting.” He got to his feet and met his sister and daughter halfway.
“Jewels,” he said, using her nickname, “why didn’t you tell us you were coming?”
“Sam and I wanted to surprise you,” the white-haired Julie replied. She hugged August through her bulky knee-length coat.
“Where is your husband?” August questioned. He and Sam had been best friends long before Sam had married Julie. It must have been a lifetime ago when they’d all lived in Nome. “It’s been years since I’ve seen him.”
“You know Sam,” Julie answered. “He’s out there getting our things.”
“I’ll give him a hand,” Rita said, but Julie waved her off.
“Don’t bother,” Julie replied. “There’s already a nice young man out there helping him.”
“That would be Mark,” August offered. “He’s the partner I wrote you about.”
“Seems like a great guy,” Julie said as Beth came into the room. “Bethany, you look great. Eastern Alaska must not take the toll on a body that western Alaska does. You look a hundred years younger than I feel.”
Beth laughed and reached out to embrace Julie. “It’s just the traveling that makes you feel that way. I know you. After a good rest, you’ll be down here teaching me some new recipe or sewing shortcut.”
“I told her this was a vacation,” Sam called from the doorway. “She’d better take it easy. After all, that is what the doctor
told her to do.”
“Are you sick, Jewels?” August asked in a serious tone.
“I had pneumonia,” Julie admitted. “But I’m much better now.”
“Well, you will take it easy while you’re here,” Beth said, ushering Julie down the hall. “I have the perfect room for you. Remember the way the girls used to have the greenhouse bedroom all fixed up? Well, I have taken the project back on.”
The group followed Beth to the bedroom. On one wall were huge double doors that Beth opened to reveal a greenhouse filled with potted plants.
“It’s beautiful!” Julie exclaimed. “Imagine all that green in the dead of winter.”
“It’s well insulated, too,” August said, moving aside for Mark to bring in the luggage he’d wrangled away from Sam.
“By the way,” Mark said and placed the bags on the highly polished, wooden floor, “I’m Mark Williams.”
Sam took his hand and shook it vigorously. “You know who I am already, but this here is my wife, Julie. She’s August’s sister.”
“Yes, I know,” Mark replied as he took Julie’s hand and held it. “August has spoken most fondly of you.”
Julie exchanged a look of love with her brother. They had always been close, and even when August had moved so far from Nome, he’d managed to keep Julie and Sam as important parts of his life.
Rita took the opportunity to slip from the room. She hated herself for leaving without getting an opportunity to talk with her aunt, but there would be time for that later.
She quickly made her way to the back porch, where she retrieved her insulated coveralls and boots. She had finished dressing to tend the dogs, when Mark appeared.
“Are you going to keep avoiding me?” he asked in a gentle voice.
Rita made the mistake of meeting his eyes. “I, uh …” Her words trailed into silence. She wanted to say more, but the words were stuck in her throat.
“Well?” he pushed.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Rita stated firmly and started past him.
“Rita,” Mark called and took hold of her arm.
“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” Rita repeated. “Don’t you understand? You are annoying me with this pressure.”
“What are you afraid of?” Mark asked her. He dropped his hand and waited for her reply.
Rita’s eyes flashed the warning that her anger had been piqued. “I’m not afraid of anything, and I don’t owe you any explanations. You’ve trained me now, and I can make the Iditarod a reality without any more interference from you.”
“Where is all this fury coming from?” Mark asked. “Is this because I kissed you or because you opened up to me?”
Rita quickly lowered her head to avoid Mark’s reading her eyes. She knew that saying nothing was like surrendering, but in truth, she was afraid to say anything. Pushing past him, Rita made her way to the dogs.
Mark stood on the steps watching her walk away. When had he come to care so much about this hurting woman-child? He was almost afraid to search himself for the depth of his concern. What if he learned more than he was willing to deal with?
Rita’s opportunity to speak in private with her aunt Julie presented itself the following morning. Beth and August had volunteered to take Sam and Julie shopping in Tok, and when Julie chose instead to stay home, Rita offered to keep her company.
Preparing them both some hot tea, Rita took two steaming mugs with her to Julie’s greenhouse sitting room.
“I’m so glad you came here,” Rita stated bluntly, handing Julie the tea. “I’ve always been able to talk to you, even when I couldn’t talk to Mom or Dad. You never seemed to judge me or make me feel inadequate.”
“I knew you needed me,” Julie replied. “I felt the most overwhelming need to keep you in my prayers and not for the reasons you think, so stop frowning. I’m not going to start preaching at you, I just knew you needed some extra care.”
“Thanks,” Rita managed, a bit uncomfortably.
“Now, why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you?” Julie smiled.
For the next two hours, Rita shared her heart with her aunt. She mentioned her mother’s attitude and her worries about her father’s advanced years, at which Julie only laughed.
“We aren’t that many years apart you know,” Julie remarked. “And I feel fit as a fiddle. Of course, Sam and I know we aren’t young kids anymore. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me at all if one of us were to die in the near future.”
Rita frowned at her aunt’s words. “I don’t like to think about that. I don’t know how you can talk so unemotionally about it either.”
“Rita, you don’t like to talk about it because you’re young and because you don’t know what the future holds for you after death. That’s all. Sam and I aren’t afraid to die. Oh, we don’t like the idea of the separation here on earth, but we know that it won’t be for long, and then we can share eternity in heaven.”
“You make it sound so wonderful,” Rita replied with a weak smile. “I know that Dad feels the same way. I guess it’s just my selfishness that keeps me worried.”
“Rita, I think it’s fear, not selfishness that keeps you bothered. For all of your life, I’ve never seen you a single time without fear in your eyes. What is it that you’re so afraid of?”
The words rang in her ears. Mark had asked her the same question. What was she afraid of?
“I don’t know,” Rita answered with a heavy sigh. “I try not to believe that I’m afraid of anything. It makes you vulnerable to be afraid.”
“And vulnerability is probably what you fear the most,” Julie replied. “Vulnerability means that you aren’t 100 percent in control. Vulnerability means that someone might see something more than the facade of independence you wear. Vulnerability might mean that someone will get too close to you.”
“Yes,” Rita admitted.
“Why do you fear getting close to others?” Julie asked softly.
Rita put her cup down and paced the room. “I don’t know. I guess because it hurts so much when they reject you.”
“And who rejected you, Rita?” Julie pressed on.
“Lots of people,” Rita answered. “My brothers and sisters never had much to do with me. Even my own mother …” Her thoughts fell short of words. “I don’t really want to talk about them. I’m having a problem, however, with Mark Williams.”
“He seems nice enough,” Julie replied.
“He is,” Rita said and stopped. “That’s the problem. I’ve managed to put off every guy who’s ever shown the slightest bit of interest in me. I knew I wanted to go to college and become a nurse like you, and I knew that someday I wanted to race in the Iditarod. A man would interfere with that.”
“I once worried about the same thing,” Julie laughed. “It’s so like God to put you through something so that you can be a help to someone else later down the road.”
“What are you talking about?” Rita questioned.
“When I married Sam, I did so without ever really understanding how he felt about my career as a nurse. Remember, my job was with the Public Health Department and I was often dogsledding out to the villages for many weeks at a time. I didn’t know how to talk about my fears to Sam. I just knew that he would never approve.”
“But he did, didn’t he?”
“Yes, he did,” Julie remembered. “He had it all planned out ahead of time to be with me on the trail. So for the most part, Sam joined me whenever I had to be gone for long periods of time. Eventually, I learned we were to have a baby, and so I quit my job and planned to stay home for a spell. Of course, you know that our son died when he was very small.”
Rita nodded. “Why didn’t you have other children?”
“I wanted to. I learned that I was to have another baby only three months after little Sam’s death. But, I miscarried and nearly bled to death. They had to perform a hysterectomy and that meant no more children.”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Julie,” Rita said sad
ly. “I never knew.”
“It’s all right, Rita. God had other plans for Sam and me. We learned a great deal just being together, and we worked well as a team among the Eskimos and Indians. I have no regrets and have thoroughly enjoyed my life. But in order to do so, I became very vulnerable.”
“I can well imagine,” Rita said in a barely audible voice. “I’m just not sure that I could deal with it as well.”
“A body never knows what it can endure until it goes through it. You’re planning on putting yourself to a test of the elements when you race from Anchorage to Nome. You will be vulnerable because of the position you place yourself in. Do you want to back away from the responsibility of the Iditarod just because of that challenge?” Julie asked her niece.
“Well, no,” Rita shook her head.
“You like this Mark, don’t you?” Julie questioned again. “That’s why this situation has become so disturbing to you. It’s why your mother’s words about God are so frightening to you. You know the truth about God. How could you not? You were raised in an atmosphere of Christian love. You attended church on your first outing after birth. Yet, even with all of this knowledge and wisdom at your fingertips, you chose instead to turn away from God’s love. Why is that, Rita?”
“I don’t know,” Rita answered, forgetting to be angry that Julie had referenced salvation.
“I think you do,” Julie replied. “You don’t trust yourself enough to love God or Mark.”
“What?” Rita questioned as her head snapped up to meet her aunt’s eyes. “What in the world has trusting myself got to do with loving God or Mark?”
Julie shifted uncomfortably in the wicker chair. Rita jumped up to retrieve a pillow while she waited for her aunt’s insight.
“Thank you, dear,” Julie said as she eased against the cushioning bulk. “Now, what I was trying to help you see is the huge mistrust you have in yourself. I think you’re the only one who can say why it’s there, but its effects are clear. God stands with open arms, offering a free gift of love and salvation. Mark apparently offers at least friendship, possibly more. In both cases, I don’t believe it’s God or Mark who frightens you the most. It’s Rita. For whatever reason you have contrived, you don’t believe yourself trustworthy and deserving of love.”
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